


morphine

by jjokkiri



Series: monsta x bingo (winter 2017) [18]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Monsta X Bingo, Undecided Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 19:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10498161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjokkiri/pseuds/jjokkiri
Summary: If everything someday finds its place and leaves, then one day, it’ll come back home, too.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Novocaine](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8014519). Written for the _Band/Musician AU_ square of [Monsta X Bingo](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/MXbingo).

 

Some things explained themselves in action, other things took words, but sometimes, things happened without a genuine explanation. Other times, there were reasons that were valid, but there weren’t enough words in the world to explain why they’d happened. Then, the words wouldn’t be enough to defend a position that everyone looked down on. Perhaps, that could be considered as something so _unfair_ , but then came the argument that _nothing_ was fair and that it shouldn’t have happened in the first place, if “ _sorry_ ” couldn’t fix it.

Musicians found their expression of their reasons in words, the lyrics they scribbled onto loose-leaf sheets of paper and onto napkins, whenever and wherever they went. Especially for a rock artist, they somehow needed to express their pain in the way they sang, and someone portray an image——get the fans to listen and think: _who hurt you?_

Music was meant to strike at something that would keep the fans on their feet; everyone had their reasons to listen to different types of music. Sometimes, the fans listened to sympathize with the artists, and sometimes to numb themselves of the feelings spiraling in their hearts. And music was usually an escape for the ones who wrote the lyrics——that’s what Kihyun always thought of scribbling words onto a sheet of paper and trying to match them with beautiful melodies.

To Novocaine, even before their music was officially released to the world, their music was a painkiller. And it seemed that the value never seemed to fade, even after Kihyun, their leader and main vocalist, walked out on them without a word (and just a plane ticket across the globe, in his hands). Perhaps, it was because he continued to monitor the activity of his old band, even after he’d left them.

 _Betrayed them,_ even. Jooheon would say something like that about him, and it would most likely be Minhyuk who would tell him not to say such things, after Changkyun frowned. Hoseok wouldn’t say a word: he’d simply stare out a window and ponder the truth behind Jooheon’s words and think about where Kihyun was, now.

It was almost frightening, how vividly he could see the entire scene play out. As if he had already seen it happen, or maybe it was because Hoseok had told him about it, during one of their late night phone calls. He hadn’t picked up any of his incoming calls for months, and he supposed that Hoseok would be worried. But, he’d vanished before, and it was only to be expected that he would do it, over and over again.

They’d all grown up learning that things all happened for certain reasons, and single offenses didn’t exist——they’d continue to happen, until something broke down completely. Kihyun couldn’t help but wonder if his leaving had smashed Shin Hoseok apart (and his heart would ache, when he thought of inflicting such pain on the love of his life——except, Hoseok would never have let him go, if he asked).

The band had every right to hate him, but as far as he knew, they didn’t. Not even Jooheon, who held bitter feelings towards him, because they had been so close but he wasn’t told a single thing.

He always told himself, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he would regret destroying that relationship he had with Jooheon and Minhyuk; the parental bond he had for Changkyun and the love he shared with Hoseok.

Kihyun couldn’t say he regretted it. Not entirely.

Leaving Novocaine granted him so many opportunities which he couldn’t have had with the band, and though that wasn’t what he was originally after, the rewards drowned his regret.

(Minhyuk would call him selfish with a laugh, and Hoseok would smile sadly.)

But, five years after walking out on invested relationships and shared dreams, with a heavy heart, Yoo Kihyun returned to Seoul.

Everything looked entirely too familiar when the twenty-eight year old vocalist finally stepped off the plane and inhaled the air of home. It had been so long since he’d been back that the Incheon Airport felt like a wave of nostalgia. He knew that if he was still with them, then the sight wouldn’t have had such an effect on him——they would have come here much too often for it to feel like homecoming.

But, he’d left them years ago, and coming back to South Korea was purely on a whim. A _hope_.

Kihyun’s fingers instinctively found themselves to the ring linked to the chain around his neck, and he gently touched the titanium, inhaling sharply. It was a calming action. The ring always served as a reminder that there would always be a part of the love of his life by his side, even if that love had died——truthfully, he knew so little of their relationship, now; what Hoseok thought of it; what they truly were.

That was something he left unresolved, when he left Seoul, when he left Novocaine. And when he left Hoseok.

There was no one waiting for him at the airport, but of course there wouldn’t be. No one was supposed to know that he had returned. It was difficult to hide the shock of pink hair under his cap, to try and avoid attention, but Kihyun managed to grab his belongings and wave down a taxi to head to his hotel.

Sometimes, change could be amazing.

But, other times, no one wanted the change in the first place, but there was no changing the past. And he’d learned that the hard way, he realized, when his eyes directed themselves out of the window. The Korean language felt stiff on his tongue as he opened his mouth to tell the driver where to go, and he wondered how much had really changed.

(And if he was coming home to a lost cause.)

 

 

 

The hotel room felt entirely too big, now that he was back in South Korea. Anywhere else, it just felt like everything was so normal, but this was now returning home and being so close to something so far away. If he hadn’t pushed Hoseok away for the hundredth time, then perhaps, they’d still be together, now. Because the one night they met again in Las Vegas, he could have done everything to fall back into Hoseok’s arms.

Instead, he walked away. _Again_.

Laying alone in the hotel room reminded him of the first night he’d spent alone, when he was twenty-four and left Novocaine behind, in pursuit of a solo career in the music industry——something that would suit him better, because he’d always been told that his talent was something that couldn’t be suppressed in a band. It was never the entire reasoning of why he left them behind, but it was always the reason he remembered, first.

 _Alone_ , in a space so large. It reminded him of the first few weeks he’d spent away from Hoseok’s arms, when he was used to curling up against the older man after an exhausting, thrill-filled night, with their nerves high-strung on the screaming of all the fans standing in the pit.

This felt like a bitter memory. Being all alone.

When he was alone on the other side of the Earth, then he’d found new friends at the very least. People whom he didn’t share deep enough bonds with, but people with enough of a convincing tongue to tell him to return to where his heart deemed as _home_.

Yet, he wasn’t sure if coming back to Seoul was returning home, because there weren’t arms to hold him that felt familiar. Perhaps, if he’d walked away after settling differences, then it would be different and they’d be together now. But, far too many times, Kihyun had promised to stay and left everything behind.

At some point, those who held open arms for him to return had to have given up on him. And he wasn’t sure when he would ever find a kinder place to stay——sweeter and as heartwarming as it was to fall asleep in Hoseok’s arms. And he could dwell for ages on how much he missed returning to comforting arms, but he’d never regret every action that had finally taken him to where he was, now.

But, if he closed his eyes and let himself drown in all of his memories, he could remember Hoseok clearly: little imperfections littered across his body in beautiful constellations which had Kihyun falling in love, over and over again. And between them, him and Hoseok: they were a masterpiece, until he tore them apart.

He was in love, still is, but sometimes, love just wasn’t enough to keep everything together.

Kihyun sat up in the bed and pushed his sheets to the side with a frustrated exhale leaving his lips, and he grit his teeth, trying to shake his mind of the thoughts of the past. There wasn’t a point in thinking of it all, if he wasn’t using the stories to write lyrics——that’s what Hyungwon always told him.

(A part of him couldn’t pinpoint why Chae Hyungwon, his label-mate and a producer cum singer whom he’d met in Los Angeles, always seemed to be right about everything——after all, Chae Hyungwon was the reason he’d returned to Seoul, after all.)

Throwing the sheets off of his petite body and onto the floor, after a moment of struggling, Kihyun let his feet touch the cold hardwood floor of the hotel room as he stepped towards the window, fingers pressing to the glass as he stared out at the city lights beneath him. Empty eyes studied the scenery beneath him as the moonlight cast a gentle glow across his features and highlighted the pale colour of his pink hair.

The lights all blinked with everything they had, shone so brightly to contribute to the beauty that was the brilliance of the city. The night was a cast shadow framing the sky with a breathtaking darkness——endless, infinite——and the stars twinkled as a glistening curtain across the sky. Everything did so much just to take part in the greater picture of the beautiful night.

And, with his heart sinking somewhere into his stomach with a sickening feeling, he couldn’t help but think about why he could never give his all for anything.

 

 

 

Four months ago saw Kihyun working on his second full-length album in one of Starship’s smaller studios in the downtown streets of Los Angeles.

The twenty-eight year old was standing in the small space of the recording studio, spacing out and missing his singing cues, a little too often. His companion, the producer he’d befriended and demanded exclusive collaboration with, furrowed worried brows at his behavior, before interrupting the recording session when Kihyun’s note left his lips a little too rushed for someone who claimed to be attentively paying attention to the melody.

“You’ve been different, lately,” Hyungwon remarked, pushing his fingers against the button to interrupt the recording session. His voice filtered through the singer’s headset and Kihyun dropped his hands from where they held onto the headset, and his voice cracked at the note he’d been holding.

From behind the glass screen, Hyungwon motioned for him to take the headset off, and Kihyun followed through with the action, blinking curiously at the producer. Hyungwon replayed the recorded track and visibly winced at the sound of Kihyun’s voice cracking. The singer flushed in embarrassment at the sound, and Hyungwon motioned for him to come out of the recording room.

Frustrated, Kihyun grabbed the lyric sheet in front of him and exited the small room, teeth gritted in annoyance at himself. The notes should have been easy for him, but his mind had been distracted, recently——it kept pushing him back to the past, and he found himself stuck there, despite everything he had, now.

“What do you mean, different?” he pressed, brows furrowed in clear dissatisfaction at the remark.

Hyungwon leaned back in his seat and replayed the audio track again, watching as Kihyun winced at the sound of his own voice. He’d always prided himself in being pitch perfect and rarely ever missing a beat——he was a singer; this was a talent he was supposed to possess.

“You’re asking me what I mean by different? Do you hear yourself?” Hyungwon asked. “Are you okay? Need a break?”

“I’m fine,” Kihyun told him, frowning.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I said I’m fine.”

“But, I didn’t ask you if you were fine, did I?”

Gritting his teeth, Kihyun fell onto the sofa in the corner of the studio, just a short distance away from Hyungwon. The dark-haired producer raised an eyebrow at him, tauntingly with his lips pursed as if demanding an answer. When Kihyun remained silent, Hyungwon sighed and rolled his eyes at the singer.

“I’ve worked with you for the past fourteen months, Kihyun. I think I should know when something is bothering you or not. Is it just something you don’t want to talk about?”

An exasperated sigh.

“It’s the lyrics,” Kihyun sighed. “You wrote them, and it makes me think that you know a little too much about me, and it’s freaking me out.”

Hyungwon barked out a short laugh and tapped his pen against the surface of the mixing board. “The _lyrics_ are bothering you? Does it feel too real?”

Kihyun flinched at the inquiry and he glared at the lyric sheet in his hands, a thousand scenarios flashing through his head as he considered the possibilities of what _Hoseok_ could have felt when he’d left him all alone. The night they’d run into one another in Las Vegas outlined the bare minimum, but the lyrics in front of him drew out a more _vivid_ image and it made his heart clench with guilt.

“Are you doing this on purpose?”

Hyungwon laughed, “Do what? You asked me to write you a heartbreaking song about being abandoned, and I did. What about this is so unsatisfactory? You said you were fine with it before we started recording, and now you’re freaking out about it.”

The producer crossed his arms over his chest, “I really don’t get you, sometimes, you know?”

“It...” Kihyun paused, angrily running a hand through his tousled locks of bright blond hair. “It makes me think of the past, and I don’t like it.”

“It makes you think of when you left Novocaine, doesn’t it?”

And Hyungwon had always been talented at hitting things exactly where they hurt. Kihyun liked him for the same reasons he hated him. He always insistently kept everything so realistic.

His mind always told him that Hyungwon wouldn’t understand how he felt. The young producer had never once been in love in his life. He’d always put his everything into work and he let music rule his entirety; it was as admirable as it was horrifying. Because Hyungwon wrote heartbreaking love songs out of pure imagination and he hadn’t the slightest clue what any of his words truly felt like.

“Do you regret it?”

“What?”

“Do you regret leaving the band?”

There was a silence and Kihyun’s fingers gripped into the material of the jacket on his shoulders. “I don’t. This is what I was meant to do.”

But for half a second, he had a hard time convincing himself of his own words.

“And Wonho?”

Kihyun visibly froze, his blood running cold at the mention. Their relationship, even when they were together in Novocaine, was supposed to be carefully kept under wraps. There couldn’t have been an opportunity for Hyungwon to have him all figured out. “What are you talking about?”

“Or is the _Shin Hoseok_ engraved in your necklace not Wonho?”

Immediately, Kihyun’s fingers found their way to the titanium ring and he gripped the metal ring on the chain——the ring he’d stolen from its hidden spot, the night before he left the band. Hoseok thought he hid everything well, but Kihyun read him as well as a book; Hoseok’s expressions were a melody on a music sheet Kihyun didn’t even need to look at to be able to sing.

“Kihyun, you couldn’t have possibly thought that no one outside of the band knew about your relationship with your lead vocalist,” Hyungwon told him, eyes narrowing in slight disbelief. “So, how did it feel leaving him? Do you regret that at all?”

“What makes you think I left him?” _But, what they really were seemed so undecided._

“Why else would the lyrics bother you so much, Kihyun?”

Eyes filling themselves with a betrayed look, Kihyun scanned Hyungwon’s figure before balling his hands into fists, unsure of what to do with unoccupied hands. “Is this what you wrote this song about?”

“Is that what I wrote the song about?” Hyungwon frowned and swiveled around in the chair, raising an eyebrow, “You’re a songwriter too, Kihyun,” he started. “You tell me what you think it feels like when someone, who you gave your entire world to, simply stood up and left you all alone. Is this it?”

Hesitating, the anger seemed to fade from his body when Hyungwon’s eyes met his. Kihyun bit down on his lower lip and inhaled, “I don’t know.”

“Because you’ve never had it happen to you,” the producer quickly responded, “Right?”

“You write love songs you’ll never understand,” Kihyun spat. “Who are you to ask me any of this?”

Hyungwon fixed him with a silent, judgmental gaze which seemed to burn right through him. But, if they were to pry at sensitive spots, then Kihyun insisted he had every right to stab at Hyungwon’s mind.

“Tell me this, Kihyun,” Hyungwon started, plucking the sheet of paper from Kihyun’s hands and scanning the page with a slender finger. “When you write lyrics like this, about broken romance and dreamlike love, are you thinking about him?”

Heart sinking, Kihyun’s eyes visibly shook as he kept his gaze trained on Hyungwon. Suddenly, a wave of guilt shrouded his entire figure, and he couldn’t find a way to escape the way it clawed at him.

There was a silence for a beat, and Hyungwon suddenly stood up from where he was seated. The twenty-seven year old producer looked guilty when he cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he started, “I went overboard. I shouldn’t have said that. I just... think that you could have been so much happier, if you didn’t leave. But, that’s not my place to say anything.” An awkward clear of his throat again, and Hyungwon wrung his hands together before he slipped them into his pockets——Kihyun had never seen the confident producer look so uncomfortable.

“Do you want some coffee? I’ll get some on me.” Hyungwon said, before quickly adding, “As an apology.”

Another skip of silence; “I mean, I’m not sorry for anything I said. I mean it all, but like... I’m sorry for the way I expressed myself. Let me buy you some coffee. We can take a break from this song, when we get back.”

And Hyungwon’s words lingered on his mind for the next month and a half, while they recorded his new album, together——heart high-strung on emotions he couldn’t seem to describe.

_Would he have been happier? It was already too late to find out._

 

 

 

There was a stage in his life when everything _post-Novocaine_ was a dream come true. Standing under the spotlight alone with a team backup dancers on the stage; it was different performing with a group of people whom you didn’t live with and see every day. It was a different kind of chemistry that seemed to make beautiful music, regardless. The chemistry he shared with Novocaine would always be an inextinguishable flame, but forgetting about that feeling was different.

Post-Novocaine, stepping off the stage after a performance didn’t have the same high that performing with a closely-knit band had. And if he thought about it, then the perks existed in the fact that he wasn’t out to kill himself, when he made to destroy that high. With the rock band, they would have dragged him with childish laughter to Jooheon’s favourite dealer and they’d spend an entire night out on the streets (but, better nights had Hoseok pushing him into the sheets with breathless laughter, bright eyes and they’d come down from their high together).

Without the rest of the band members, the crowd only cheered for him, and his selfish heart soaked up the attention with sly smirks at the audience, and playfully coquettish eyes swathed in dark makeup. There was something about having everyone adoring him that contributed to a high he never quite knew was possible. It was _different_ from Novocaine’s thrill.

And for the first few years, it was the second best thing to ever happen to him; Hoseok’s love trumping that.

It took thousands of self-reassuring whispers to try to convince himself that there wasn’t a better choice he could have made in his life; to convince himself that _yes, this is the kind of thrill he loved._

(And that it wasn’t being onstage next to his closest friends that made music the best thing to ever happen to him.

And the thrill of hiding from the fans; sneaking kisses to Hoseok’s lips when they were away from the public eye.

Certainly, that wasn’t what he fell in love with, so closely alongside the music.)

But, sitting across the table from Hyungwon, now——seven shots away from sober——Kihyun suddenly began to see too many differences between everything he’d been trying to convince himself about his career and reality.

Perhaps, because a tipsy Hyungwon was pointing them out to him, insistent and sincere.

Because ever since that day they’d conversed about the past in the recording studio, Hyungwon took more careful measures as to not hurt the older man. The singer didn’t need that any more than he needed Hyungwon’s constant nagging. Kihyun appreciated the caring gesture, but Hyungwon was a little bit too much, sometimes.

Right now, neither of them cared, because the alcohol drove them miles away from the _need_ to care about anything leaving their mouths. Hyungwon was always the type of person to subconsciously ask all of the sensitive questions he never quite knew the answer to, but in this very moment, he felt like he could tell the younger man anything and everything on his mind.

And maybe a small part of Kihyun had always felt like he could tell Hyungwon anything——he saw bits and pieces of the younger members of Novocaine in him; _Jooheon’s work ethic, Changkyun’s sincerity and Minhyuk’s compassion._

Everything reminded him of Novocaine, no matter how much he tried to ignore it and pretend it didn’t exist. Because a part of him would always miss it, despite the lack of regret boiling in his heart (and Jooheon would call him heartless for such a mindset).

The burn of vodka down his throat left a trail of fire, and his eyes teared up at the sensation——suddenly, it was a lot harder to swallow around the alcohol.

“Do you ever want to go home?” Hyungwon asked, after a moment of silence. “Like, do you ever think about it?

“Home?” Kihyun repeated, his mind blurring with the sudden rush of alcohol pulsing through his bloodstream, when he opened his mouth to speak. Instinctively, Hyungwon reached out a hand to brace him, in case he fell forward.

“Yeah,” Hyungwon nodded, pursing his lips and taking a sip of the glass of wine in his hands, “Like, back to Seoul. Maybe for something more than just a tour. Staying for a couple months or something.”

Placing his shot glass back down on the table, Kihyun stared at an empty spot on the table for a moment, letting Hyungwon’s words sink into his mind; letting himself think about the inquiry. He’d never quite thought about returning to Seoul for anything other than a tour. No matter how much he missed Novocaine, he never thought of returning to Seoul. The thought simply never crossed his mind, over the past two years (since he began missing Hoseok, after seeing him backstage at not-so-random concerts).

Planning to see one another at concerts and pretending that it was an accident, before falling into the sheets together was easy. He’d stopped texting Hoseok back for months, the guilt threatening to swallow him alive for leaving the older man high-strung on hope for the next moment that his phone would vibrate with a text message back from Kihyun (“We should stop meeting like this,” Kihyun’s shaky voice had told him, curled up in Hoseok’s arms, “We’re going to get caught, and that’ll be the end of both of us.” And he hated recalling the heartbroken look on Hoseok’s face).

But, the simple idea of just going back to South Korea and maybe, apologizing to the band for walking out on them without a word——it never crossed his mind. Something so simple just went right over his head.

“Do you think I should go back?” Kihyun asked, eyes still focused on the clear liquid in his glass. The alcohol would burn down his throat and render him incoherent, if he took another shot. So, he let his vision haze as he listened to Hyungwon speak to him.

“That’s not my place to say, is it?” Hyungwon remarked, bringing his glass back to his lips again.

The older man furrowed his brows at him and he pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, despite not feeling anything at all. The alcohol seemed to numb him (and a songwriter’s mind found itself trying to compare it to something else; something more poetic than getting shit-faced on a weekday).

“You’ve never had a problem with voicing your opinion when I didn’t ask, though,” he answered, narrowing his eyes. Hyungwon chuckled at the remark and he flashed a grin. “I’m asking for your opinion, now.”

“You’ve never cared for someone else’s opinion before,” Hyungwon remarked, but then his hands fell into his lap and he sighed. The tall, handsome producer rested his chin in his palm, elbow on the table with his wine glass finally placed on the table. His eyes avoided Kihyun’s for a moment, but his eyes flickered with obvious thought.

The singer eyed him carefully, waiting for a response——whether it be what he wanted to hear, or if Hyungwon was just going to lay out his true thoughts to him. Kihyun remained quiet, and the sound of the music in the bar seemed to lower in volume as he focused on Hyungwon, and only Hyungwon.

“I think you should,” he said, after a long moment. “I think you should go back.”

“You do?”

“I do,” Hyungwon decided. “The way you talk about them... you obviously miss them, and you might say that you don’t regret what you did, but Kihyun, the fandom wasn’t the only thing devastated when you left Novocaine. You know that, right?”

He nodded, dumbly. And suddenly, his emotions were rising somewhere in his chest and slowly suffocating him.

“All of your team members were hurt,” Hyungwon said, “But, that’s obvious, isn’t it? You guys worked together for so long, and everything you did was together. You suddenly leaving caused an unexpected change in everything, and they didn’t know what to do. You were their leader, but you were also their _friend_. You meant so much to all of them, and sometimes, when I talk to you... I don’t think you know that.”

Truthfully, Kihyun wouldn’t remember half of Hyungwon’s words in the morning, but for now, he listened attentively to the way Hyungwon seemed to pour out his feelings to the older singer.

Hyungwon paused, pursing his lips. “And of course, Wonho. He looked at you like nothing else in the world meant anything more than you. I don’t know what it feels like to be in love, but: the way he looked at you? It almost made me feel like I understood what it meant to be in love.”

They looked at one another——silence shrouding them for a brief moment. A subtle pain throbbed at Kihyun’s forehead; the effect of the alcohol beginning to really affect him.

“... So, you think I should go back?”

Another silence crossed the space between them, and Hyungwon grabbed his wine glass, quickly downing the remainder of the drink, before pressing his fingers into his temples and exhaling softly. “Did you love him?”

“I _love_ him.”

Doubtful eyes glimmered at Kihyun, but the drunken man could hardly recognize the meaning behind the gaze. Hyungwon chewed on his lower lip, pondering his choices of an acceptable answer, “Swear you do?”

Kihyun’s fingers grasped at the ring around his neck and he nodded, eyes shining with a sincerity he wouldn’t dare to show sober. “I swear I do.”

“If you love him then, I think he deserves to see you again, at home, even if it’s the last time.”

There was a small smile on the younger man’s lips.

And maybe, Hyungwon wasn’t as drunk as Kihyun thought he was.

 

 

 

It took him days before he worked up the courage to leave the hotel room and do something his mind had been aching to do, since he set foot back in South Korea.

A cloudy evening saw Kihyun making his way down familiar pathways; somewhere he could go, even after so many years, with his eyes shut. It was something he knew like the back of his hand, because he’d spent years following the same path——to and from _home_.

The streets were empty; passing cars were scarce, but of course they would be. It was a residential street and most of the houses were occupied by students. The students returning home from their classes spared him absent glances, because anyone would look curiously at the man with bright pink hair walking down a quiet street. Surely, it wasn’t something they saw very often. Kihyun remembered his days as a student——everything was monotonous and so bland; nineteen year old Kihyun would have been entirely fascinated with the pink-haired man walking down the street, even without knowing that he was famous.

(He wasn’t promoting as of the moment, and it crossed his mind to dye his hair back to its natural state of black.)

At the end of the street, there was a small home; locked up and vacant. Kihyun’s old home——the one he’d lived in with the rest of Novocaine, before they had all dropped out of school and formed the band.

They never sold the place, after they moved into a new apartment, together (somewhere a little closer to their recording studio). They’d all agreed on the fact that it held too much sentimental value to get rid of; they could afford financing a home they didn’t live in with the money they made, anyway.

Kihyun’s feet dragged themselves down the sidewalk of the street, and it pulled him to the doorstep of the house. He looked up at the arching gateway over the front door and inhaled sharply. Opening the door would be opening up a treasure box of memories, that was something known without a single doubt.

Digging through his wallet, Kihyun withdrew the hidden key from between the leather slats of the wallet. He never quite thought that he would be return to South Korea, let alone the home he once shared with the people who meant the entire world to him, but here he stood——on the doorstep of all their memories. The good times, just before the start of the better times.

The silver metal of the key fell heavy between his fingers, heavy and cold.

Fumbling with the key in his hands, Kihyun slowly nudged it into the door and exhaled.

For some reason, his heart felt so nervous. His nerves pulsed through his bloodstream and he grit his teeth, before biting down on his lower lip. He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting from entering an abandoned home, but perhaps, it would remind him of the past. And, maybe Hyungwon was right, as always, when he said that Kihyun was simply too afraid to face what he’d selfishly left behind, without a single regret.

Swallowing his nerves, Kihyun pushed the door open and stepped inside. Quiet footsteps instinctively made their way down the stairs to the space that was once Novocaine’s makeshift recording studio and practice room. And as he approached the bottom of the stairs, his ears filled themselves with the sound of a strumming guitar. _An acoustic guitar._

It played a familiar tune, and the melody drifted through the air in clear sounds, echoing throughout the room.

His eyes widened when the melody abruptly stopped, but he stood frozen in the doorway at the bottom of the staircase, unsure of what to expect from the sound of the guitar. He hadn’t thought that there would be someone else in the house, but he wasn’t alone.

“Hello?” came a familiar voice and Kihyun flinched.

And his feet rooted him in place, unable to move away from where he was standing, despite the burning urge to turn around and run away from where he was——away from being caught by whomever was in the house with him. He couldn’t tell his body to move; it stayed frozen.

In a flash, his mind ran through a million possibilities——perhaps, when he’d left, the band sold their old home and this was classified as trespassing, at this point. He swore that Hoseok would have told him, if they dared to do something like that, but then again: he didn’t tell Hoseok everything, and he couldn’t have expected the older man to do the same thing for him, if he couldn’t keep his side of being a _good lover._

But then, a familiar mess of black hair and tired eyes peeked out from behind the wall. Kihyun’s blood ran cold before it flashed with pulses of relief, when he recognized the other man. _Changkyun. Their youngest guitarist._

 _No, Novocaine’s guitarist,_ he reminded himself. Novocaine wasn’t his anymore.

“Hyung?” Changkyun breathed, his voice ringing in Kihyun’s ears with absolute disbelief. The young man rubbed his eyes, as if he thought he were dreaming, and then suddenly, he was being pulled into an embrace. Kihyun’s head fell against Changkyun’s shoulder, when the guitarist pulled him into his arms, squeezing tightly. “Hyung...”

The guitarist’s voice broke with obvious tears and Kihyun’s heart clenched, hands unsure of what to do——unsure if he should be wrapping his arms around Changkyun’s body.

 _“Hyung, you came home.”_ Changkyun exhaled, “I knew you’d come back. _I knew you would._ ”

But, there was a note of desperation in Changkyun’s voice that told Kihyun that he was praying this wasn’t his imagination——that he thought his arms wrapping around the vocalist could all still be fake. He couldn’t deny that his heart shattered at the clear idea that Changkyun was so desperate for the moment to be _real_ ; made him think about how many nights had Changkyun dreaming of the day he would return to them.

(Because Changkyun was always the hopeful one in the band, the young, foolish dreamer they all adored with every fiber in their beings.)

And that was all that he needed, before his resolve broke and his arms wrapped around Changkyun and he inhaled the younger man’s scent, trembling.

“Yes,” he answered, feeling the surge of emotions from his past washing over him. It feels like a constriction in his chest, when he felt Changkyun’s tears seeping into his shirt and wetting the material——his mind screamed at him: _how could you ever have left behind someone who was so attached to you?_

Because, this wasn’t just between him and Hoseok, anymore. This was about a family he’d turned his back on, and he had to wonder why it took him so long to realize it.

“Yes, I’m home. _I’m home, baby._ Don’t cry, I’m here.”

And he couldn’t help but wonder if the other members of the band would welcome him back with warm embraces, just like this.

 

 

 

A year ago, Los Angeles saw Kihyun and Hoseok together in a high-class hotel room.

Novocaine had just had their third promotional tour concert in Los Angeles since Kihyun left, and with pulling a couple strings, the solo rock artist found himself holding a gig on the other side of the city. Escaping his manager and _accidentally_ running into Hoseok in the lobby of a hotel room was so easy, and falling into the bassist’s arms was even easier; it was too simple to fall in love with Hoseok, over and over.

But, for Kihyun, it also got easier to keep leaving. _Over and over_.

He couldn’t pinpoint why, but Hoseok always welcomed him back with open arms, no matter how many times he dared to shatter his heart. And a part of him wanted to scream at the older man for being such a fool in love——yet, his entire heart couldn’t have been anymore grateful that Hoseok never gave up on him.

Sometime after absent conversation and soft smiles, desperate kisses and rough hands, Hoseok had fallen asleep with Kihyun in his arms. Yet, a thrumming of fear in Kihyun’s heart away woke him up just before dawn, every single time they fell asleep together. He missed the days when there was nothing to worry about, and he didn’t need to worry about being caught with the older man——when they loved each other without boundaries.

Novocaine was more peaceful than this. But, this was _everything he’d ever wanted_ , he tried to convince himself. _That fame._

Quietly slipping out from between Hoseok’s strong arms, Kihyun ran his fingers through his hair, kneeling on the mattress beside the older man’s sleeping body.

“I love you, you know?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to a sleeping Hoseok’s forehead.

The older man’s lips curled into a small smile and he shifted in his sleep (as if he were assuring Kihyun that he knew). Kihyun pushed himself gently off of the bed and let his feet hit the ground with a soft sound, careful to not wake the older man up.

And he was quick in slipping back into his clothes; picking them off the ground and trying to make himself look presentable. The guilt threatened to swallow him alive, when he spared a glance at Hoseok’s sleeping figure. He’d been walking out on the older man after their meetings, too often——couldn’t recall the last time that Hoseok woke up with him still in his arms, even if he wanted to.

But, when he pulled his jacket closer to his body and listened to the door of the hotel room click shut, all of his emotions came rushing away and he steeled his heart, again. It was like he was leaving all of his emotions behind, all with Hoseok.

For some reason, he was too afraid of loving with his entire being——even if Hoseok gave him his everything.

_I love you, and I’m so sorry._

(It was the fear of being abandoned and being the only one left in love, but he knew Hoseok would never abandon him; he loved him entirely and purely. He simply couldn’t do the same; couldn’t invest his everything into it.

And that was Yoo Kihyun’s single flaw.)

 

 

 

Seeing Changkyun at their old practice room was a jolt to his mind; a reminder of why he’d returned to South Korea. Before he left the house, after hours of talking to the twenty-five year old guitarist (and Changkyun refusing to let him go, in fear that he would disappear again), he’d made Changkyun promise him that he wouldn’t tell the other members that Kihyun was finally back in Seoul (especially not Hoseok). The young man had initially declined with a heartbroken flash in his eyes, but Kihyun held his hands and pleaded that he would reveal it to them, himself.

Changkyun had looked at him doubtfully, but provided him with the band’s new address, because they’d finally moved into a bigger home, somewhere a little closer to the center of the city. And before Changkyun finally walked him to the car, he wrapped him into a hug and looked at him with worried and foolishly hopeful eyes—— _“You’ll come back to us, right?”_ he’d asked.

But, the resounding _“no, I can’t”_ shattered Changkyun’s heart, even though he’d known it was coming.

And when he offered Changkyun a ride back to his place, the young man shook his head with a small smile.

“I’d love to spend more time with you, but every time I come back here, it’s because I want to relive the days we were all together,” he told him. “It’s trying to find inspiration. If I don’t take the bus home, then there isn’t really a point to trying to relive those moments, hyung.”

He’d always known that Changkyun was sentimental, but something about the words seemed to tear his heart in two—— _just how many times had Changkyun tried to reminisce the past, like this?_

And he couldn’t get it out of his head that it was all his fault: _Changkyun was too young to want to eternally dwell in the past._

“It was really nice to catch up with you,” Changkyun told him, when Kihyun walked him to the bus stop. “I’m glad to know that you’re doing really well on your own, but... I’m still selfish and I wished that you would have stayed with us, because everyone misses you, even if they don’t say it. Hoseok hyung, too.” Changkyun paused, hand gripping at the neck of his guitar and he bit his lower lip, “Sometimes, I still hear Hoseok hyung crying at night, because he misses you.”

There was a beat of silence as Changkyun’s words tugged harshly at his heartstrings.

“You know he loves you, right? Still does. Even after all this time. He still writes songs about being in love with you, too.”

“He wrote 23 songs on your discography about me, didn’t he?” Kihyun asked, softly. And it isn’t fueling his ego; it’s wanting to know how someone could still be so foolishly in love, even after everything. “And... he wanted to dedicate the entire _11:11_ album to me, didn’t he??”

The young man looked at him with surprise, “You still listen to our music?”

And he suddenly wanted to shake his head and tell Changkyun that Hoseok had told him these things during the promotional tours, when they’d pretended to accidentally meet up. He reminded himself to answer the question: Changkyun asked him a question, and the answer was simple.

“... of course I do,” Kihyun replied, lips curling into a small smile, but his heart broke at the clear tone of disbelief in Changkyun’s voice, as if he couldn’t believe his own ears——as if he thought that Kihyun stopped caring about them, the second he’d walked out the door. And perhaps, it seemed as such, but he’d hoped that Changkyun knew him better than that. “I’m a fan.”

“A fan,” Changkyun repeated, his voice trailing off with a note of sadness, before he shook his head and smiled. “Well, thank you, I guess.”

The guitarist looked as if he were going to speak again, but then there was the sound of the bus rolling up to the sidewalk, next to them. The doors opened, and Changkyun spared Kihyun one last glance, before he pressed his lips into a thin, forced smile. “I missed you, you know. We all did.”

“I’ll come visit you guys,” Kihyun told him. “I promise.”

And before Changkyun stepped onto the bus, he wrapped Kihyun in a tight hug, eyes glistening with the threat of tears, all over again. “You have to keep your promise this time, okay, hyung?”

The smile on his lips swore that to Changkyun: _to not let him down another time._

 

 

 

As he promised, Kihyun does come to visit them, but his heart pounded loudly in his ears when he stood on the doorstep of their home. It’s not far from where they all once lived as Novocaine; just a short walk down the road. It’s a Sunday evening, when he does and his nerves skyrocketed.

He’d recently dyed his shock of pink hair to its natural black, in memory of his appearance when he’d first met the band members——when he first met Hoseok. It was worth a shot to try to rewind everything to the beginning, or try to remind the members of the days when everything was better for all of them. When they were together and shared every moment of happiness and fame with one another.

He held his breath when his knuckles rapped against the door, listening to the dull thudding sound echo into the home. He could hear laughter through the door, and then someone approaching the door, before he heard Jooheon’s clear voice ringing out from a further distance, “No one’s home!”

And he wondered if the laughter would die when they finally saw him.

The doorknob jolted and Kihyun suddenly felt an intense urge to turn on his heel and walk away, again. He’d always been good at running away, and there was almost nothing stopping him now. Nothing but the promise he’d made Changkyun; the one he promised himself that he wouldn’t break, for the sake of the trust Changkyun had in him——and his pride as someone Changkyun admired.

Steeling himself, the vocalist exhaled and waited for the door to open. Kihyun tried not to show the obviousness of the way he heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Changkyun’s face peeking out of the crack of the door. The older man pressed his lips into an awkward smile, and the guitarist’s eyes immediately brightened.

“Hyung,” Changkyun said, his eyes clearly reflecting happiness, “Come in!”

“Who is it, Kyun?” came Minhyuk’s familiar voice and Changkyun gently pulled him into the house, shutting the door behind them. And it slowly sank in that he wasn’t going to be able to escape, now.

The surprise in Minhyuk’s face when he recognized Kihyun was obvious, but the keyboardist said nothing. He simply flashed a smile at the younger man, and there was a swirling feeling in Kihyun’s gut, questioning if this was really a good idea. Hyungwon might have been right when he mentioned the idea of going back home, but this felt so different from what he was expecting, and he didn’t know what to think of it.

He’d always been someone to bury himself into his own beliefs and perceptions of things, stubbornly refusing to budge with the opinions of others. Perhaps, he didn’t know them as well as he did, if they weren’t reacting to his presence as he thought they would have upon seeing him again.

Kihyun swallowed, “Hi.”

“Hello,” Minhyuk said, pleasantly and the other man threw himself on the sofa. Jooheon’s eyes flickered with confusion as he scanned Kihyun’s figure, sitting across from Minhyuk.

“Have a seat, hyung,” Changkyun smiled, eyes bright as he flopped onto the sofa right beside Minhyuk. The keyboardist shifted in his seat to make more room on the sofa for the both of them.

It may have been his own imagination, but it felt entirely too surreal to be invited to sit down in the home of the people he’d left behind for his own selfish reasons. The people he broke hundreds of promises to, whether those promises were simple or not——he’d left them. And in his mind, that was the one thing that couldn’t have been forgiven. He didn’t understand why they were all being so nonchalant about the past.

He’d always thought of himself of someone who left the past behind in favor of the present and the reality in front of him, but this made him think that perhaps, he’s always had a little bit of a skewed view on reality.

“Why... are you guys so calm?” he asked, quietly. Jooheon grabbed the sofa pillow beside him and chuckled.

“Should we be shouting at you and telling you to get out of our house?” he asked, but there’s that glint in his eyes that showed he was kidding. Kihyun recognized that; remembered it from when they used to sit down and write songs together, laughing at the ridiculous lyric suggestions. Still, it felt like a dagger stabbing into Kihyun’s chest.

“If you think we’re still mad at you for leaving us, we’re not,” Minhyuk added. “Changkyun here never was, and I got over it pretty quickly. That one over there,” the red-haired keyboardist gestured to Jooheon, “Broke around fifteen different sets of very expensive drumsticks, though.”

Jooheon scowled at Minhyuk, and the keyboardist only smiled at him. And suddenly, it was impossible to deny the fact it seemed that nothing had changed between the band members. Surely, the only main difference was that he wasn’t one of them anymore, and he hadn’t been for the past years——it almost felt strange to be standing here without someone to hold him and tell him that everything would be okay. He suddenly needed that reassurance.

It was so normal to talk about Novocaine when he fell into bed with Hoseok, somewhere oceans away from their home, but standing before them felt so different. The band members didn’t seem to care as much as he’d thought they would. But, he couldn’t tell if he should be upset, or if he didn’t have that right.

And it was in that moment that he realized, _Hoseok wasn’t there._

The vocalist swallowed hard, eyes darting around the living room in search of the familiar figure of his lover (or whatever they might have become, now). Changkyun’s eyes followed his, curiously and then the realization flashed across his eyes; Kihyun bit down on his lower lip before he mentally prepared to question the members.

“Where’s Hoseok?” Kihyun asked, throat dry.

“Behind you,” Jooheon answered, pursing his lips and resting his elbow on the soft cushion in his lap, nonchalant.

Kihyun’s blood ran cold and he turned his body; surely enough, Hoseok was standing behind him. The older vocalist was dressed down in a hoodie and jeans (he looked as if he were headed off to bed). There was surprise written all across his face, but _pleasant_ surprise, nonetheless.

“Evening,” Hoseok greeted, smiling. “When did you get here?”

The inquiry left Kihyun speechless. He’d always known Hoseok as someone who was blind to past mistakes, because he was so honest and kind; wholesome and sweet. But, there was a flame burning in the pit of his stomach at the way the older man simply accepted him back into his life, over and over. No matter how many times Kihyun bit at his heart and tore it apart.

And he simply couldn’t understand that.

“What’s wrong with you?” he breathed, disbelief practically dripping from his tone.

Hoseok blinked in surprise at the suddenly question, and he tilted his head to the side, brows furrowing——finally looking distressed in the slightest. But, for all the wrong reasons. Kihyun couldn’t understand the way Hoseok’s mind worked, and it flared his temper—— _how could someone be so blind?_

“What do you mean?”

The eyes of the band trained on them, a mixture of surprised and concerned. Changkyun’s eyes widened in slight fear, and his hands immediately found their way to curl into the fabric of his sweater. The look in his eyes reminded Hoseok of the fear in a child’s eyes, if they heard their parents arguing. His heart twisted in pain, but he focused on Kihyun.

“Are you insane?” Kihyun pressed. Hoseok flinched.

“Are you here to start a fight?” Jooheon interrupted them, and gathering himself, Hoseok shot him a look. Immediately, the drummer shut up, and turned away from the tense couple (if they could still be called such).

Hoseok quickly reached forward and grabbed the younger vocalist’s wrist, tugging him towards himself, “Come on, let’s go somewhere a little more private and talk.”

They barely make it to Hoseok’s bedroom, and Kihyun shook Hoseok’s hand off of himself, eyes blown wide with confusion and anger. A disaster of emotions. The surge of everything hitting him all at once triggered him to shout at the older man.

“Why do you accept me so easily?” Kihyun yelled, “I come and go as I please in your life, and you’re always here with open arms? I don’t fucking get it, Hoseok!”

In Hoseok’s eyes, he could see the sudden turmoil and the building irritation——because Kihyun _asked_ for him to be angry. The blond pressed his tongue at the roof of his mouth, “You don’t have to understand!”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Hoseok! Why can’t you tell me that I’m wrong? That I’ve hurt you?” Kihyun shouted, “Why can’t you just leave me?”

And Hoseok has never been someone to yell, but the words which left Kihyun’s mouth triggered something in his mind. _The suggestion of leaving him._ Hoseok’s ears burned bright red, when he shouted back, “Because anything hurts less than trying to blame you, Kihyun! I don’t ever want to let you go, I love you! What’s so hard to understand about that?”

“You’re so stupid,” he spluttered, frustrated. “You’re so, _so stupid!_ I don’t get it, Hoseok! How can you put your everything into me? What the hell am I worth?”

And suddenly, there was a wave flashing between them, and Hoseok inhaled sharply; a sudden calm, “ _Everything_.” A breath. “You’re worth everything to me.”

Kihyun’s breath caught in the back of his throat, but his anger boiled beneath his skin, “Why? I don’t get it? I treat you like crap, why do you love me?”

“Because you love me.”

“I _treat you like shit_! You deserve so much better!” Kihyun felt like pulling at his own hair and crying. “How can you be so stupid?”

Hoseok gave him a sad smile, “You once said you were crazy in love with me. Well, then, I guess I’m stupid in love with you.”

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Kihyun exhaled, the anger obvious in his tone——frustrated at himself for being so confused; for being unable to understand the one person he claimed to love.

And he loved him. He really did. _Truly, deeply; with his heart and mind._

But, in the next second, Hoseok was pressed back against the wooden door of his bedroom; Kihyun’s lips against his, rough.

 

 

 

It’s pent up frustrations——all of Kihyun’s anger and confusion——swirling together, when he pressed Hoseok against the bed. And it’s exhausting; they sprawled side by side, after they’d both escaped that annoyed, burning headspace. Kihyun fell into Hoseok’s arms, limp and breathless as he buried his face into the older man’s chest.

Hoseok held him, gently——as he always did.

“Do you feel better, now?” Hoseok asked, gently running his fingers through Kihyun’s hair and smiling softly at him. Tears stung at the younger vocalist’s eyes and he bit down on his lower lip. “Are you calmer?”

“I just... don’t understand,” he breathed.

“You don’t have to understand,” Hoseok told him, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head, wrapping them both in the thin blankets. His voice was soft and gentle, as he continued; “You just have to know that I love you, unconditionally. There’s nothing I love more than you, and you need to just accept that, Kihyun.”

“I just want you to stop trying to burn the bridges that I’m building, because you think I’ll leave you,” Hoseok continued, fingers gently tracing the younger man’s jaw. “You’re making me think that you don’t trust me, when I tell you that I love you more than anything in the world; that you’re the one I really do want to spend the rest of my life with. And it’s okay if you don’t want that; it’s okay if you’re not ready for that kind of commitment, because you want to be free.”

Kihyun opened his mouth to argue, and Hoseok immediately hushed him, “I’m not done.”

Obediently, Kihyun bit his tongue and stayed silent.

“I never told you this, on the many occasions we got to sit down and talk——should I be saying _‘lay down and fuck’_?” Kihyun nodded at the correction, and Hoseok bit back an amused smile for a brief moment, “——but, I’m over you leaving, but I’ll wait for you to come back. I was hoping it meant something, when you took the ring I bought you, with you. You weren’t supposed to know about it until I proposed to you,” Hoseok added, running his fingers through Kihyun’s hair affectionately. And the loving glow in his eyes made Kihyun feel sick——he was so terrible, but Hoseok loved him nonetheless.

“I’m sorry I’m the worst,” Kihyun mumbled. Hoseok chuckled.

“You’re not,” he told him. “Just... promise me that you won’t just leave when you think I’m asleep, again. Not like every single time we’ve slept together, after you left the band.”

“You knew?” Kihyun asked, eyes widening in surprise.

“I felt you leave,” he replied, “Every single time. But, holding you back has never done anything before, has it? Something just told me that you’d always come back to me, so I hoped; ignored how much it hurt.”

“Hoseok,” Kihyun whispered, “I’m sorry. Baby, _I’m so sorry._ ”

Hoseok smiled, “Don’t say that,” he said, “I know you’re not.”

Kihyun’s heart sank, but he couldn’t argue otherwise. Hoseok was right——Kihyun’s mind barely felt the guilt, no matter how in love he was with the older man. After a short silence, the younger vocalist gripped into the sheets and looked up at Hoseok.

“I can’t believe you wanted to marry me,” Kihyun breathed.

“ _Want_.” Hoseok corrected, “I still do. If you’d let me spend the rest of my life with you, then I haven’t changed my mind, Kihyun.”

Kihyun held his breath, closing his eyes.

“I love you, you know?” he whispered. The arms around him tightened, and Hoseok hummed softly.

“I know.”

 

 

 

Reconciling with the band, after the years of leaving them without a word, came in the form of an agreement of collaborating with one another. Just like the old days, when they’d stand on stage together.

Jooheon would never admit it, but he smiled at the idea of the collaboration, because it made him believe that the division between their fans in the line of hatred would simply vanish.

Minhyuk smiled at them and knocked Kihyun in the back of his head with a hand, before draping his arm around his shoulders. The keyboardist sighed softly, before thanking Kihyun quietly for coming back——because it made the difference of an entire world to all of them. To Hoseok especially, but to all of them.

Changkyun’s eyes had never been brighter, when he hugged Kihyun after their discussion in Novocaine’s living room. His voice was soft, when he smiled at Kihyun; _“This is almost as good as coming home to us, hyung.”_ And Kihyun’s heart swelled with affection for the younger man.

Sitting in the recording studio and staring at the lyrics Jooheon wrote, Kihyun pursed his lips. He and Hoseok sat alone in the recording studio, playing back the melodies they’d recorded over the past few hours.

Hoseok noticed the frown on his face almost immediately.

“Is something bothering you?” Hoseok asked, eyes flickering with concern as he spared the younger a glance, hand halting from moving the mouse for a brief moment.

A heavy sigh.

“Sometimes, I just...” Kihyun sighed, leaning forward against the mixing board in front of him, eyes moving to look through the glass of the recording studio. It was empty; Jooheon had asked for a quick break from recording his part for their collaboration track, and while he was gone, Kihyun didn’t know what to do with his hands. “You know? I just don’t know where I’m supposed to belong.”

The sound of rolling wheels sounded and suddenly, Hoseok was right beside him.

Gently, the older man placed his hand on top of Kihyun’s and the young man looked up, surprised.

“Beside me,” Hoseok replied, smiling. “You belong beside me.”

Kihyun shook his head, but smiled, fingers playing with the ring around his finger.

Finally, he’d taken the titanium ring engraved with Hoseok’s name off of the chain around his neck, and placed it on his hand. They weren’t official to the public, but until someone asked them questions, he’d keep it.

A part of his mind thanked the kind-hearted producer he met in Los Angeles, who guided him home.

This might not be permanent, but returning to Hoseok calmed the pain which pulsed through his veins, and this felt like home. There wasn’t much that Kihyun knew for certain about the world, but there was one thing he knew for certain: _if everything someday finds its place and leaves, then one day, it’ll come back home, too._

And he’d keep coming back, no matter how many times he left, because Hoseok welcomed him with open arms. Somehow, he’d learn to become a better lover; someone who was deserving of Hoseok.

Because, this was home to him—— _with Hoseok_ ——where his heart felt safe and painless.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter [@kkyunjus](https://twitter.com/kkyunjus), if you want! thank you for reading c:


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